Date: Sat, 7 Jun 2003 20:48:29 +0100 (BST)
From: matriarch
Subject: Rhapsody
This story contains explicit depictions of a loving and caring
relationship. If you find real love offensive, I suggest you seek your
thrills elsewhere.
The story is dedicated to my love, 'my imp'.
Rhapsody
By
Matriarch
The curtains are drawn against the night. The log fire is burning cosily
in a brick fireplace. The sofa is pulled up close to the fire, the room is
not dark, but glows from the light of the fire and a few candles, sending
flickering shadows into the corners of the room, creating a mood of mystery
and romance. We have Bach playing in the background, the cd player loaded
with our two favourite pies. For me, the double violin concerto, for you
the Brandenburg. Not intrusive, just soft enough to lend ambience to the
room.
The sofa is old and welcoming, covered with soft throws in rust and green,
my favourite autumn shades which blend with the shadows and lighting in the
room. On the small mahogany table beside the sofa stands a goblet of
brandy, partly consumed. A few warming mouthfuls, enough to relax not
inebriate. Beside the goblet a pile of books - close inspection will show
them to be poetry - Alice Meynell, Tennyson, Elizabeth Browning, and, of
course, Shakespeare. I had been reading them whilst waiting for you.
I am sitting quietly, comfortably in one corner of the sofa, facing the
fire, reading, occasionally lowering the book to gaze into the fire, my
face showing nothing, the depth of my thoughts evident from the unfocussed
set of my gaze. A sound breaks my reverie, and my head turns to the sound,
my face lighting up with intense pleasure as you enter the room and cross
to me. You are wearing a long dark blue nightdress, with deep side slits
to your hips, and a stretch lace bodice, all held up with thin straps.
As you bend to lightly kiss me, my eyes roam over the whole of you, but
always return to those eyes which sparkle at me. I smile softly as I lift
your hand to my lips and after kissing your finger-tips pat the sofa beside
me for you to sit with me. You seem to pour yourself onto the sofa, and
between us we organise a comfortable position for us both. You are
stretched full length, your hips nestled in my lap, and your head and
shoulders cradled in my arm so that I can reach your lips with my own, and
later, other parts of you with my other hand. For now, you are cradled in
both arms, and I smile happily at your deep sigh of comfort and contentment
as I hold you to me.
"Read to me, love, please."
Gently kissing your forehead, smiling down at you, "What would you like?".
"You choose, whatever you were just reading."
I lifted the book I had been reading, and lying it against you, used my
free hand to turn the pages until I found what I was looking for, and in a
low voice I began to read:
"I must not think of thee; and, tired yet strong,
I shun the thought that lurks in all delight -
The thought of thee - and in the blue Heaven's height,
And in the sweetest passage of a song.
O just beyond the fairest thoughts that throng
This breast, the thought of thee waits, hidden yet bright;
But it must never, never come in sight;
I must stop short of thee the whole day long.
But when sleep comes to close each difficult day,
When night gives pause to the long watch I keep,
And all my bonds I needs must loose apart,
Must doff my will as raiment laid away, -
With the first dream that comes with the first sleep
I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart."
The sonnet had special meaning for me. I had read it to myself many times
after we first met, before I had found the courage to tell you how I felt,
before you and I had become 'us'. When I finally told you of this at one
of those soft post loving times when confession is so easy, you had
declared it henceforth, 'our poem'. You loved me to read it to you, and I
did often.
"Does this please you my love?" I whispered, looking down to see your face
watching me, knowing I was remembering, as were you.
"Yes love, this pleases me very much," is your soft response.
For a while we simply share this time together, allowing the flames and the
music to wash over us, fill the room, with you lying completely relaxed in
my arms, and me holding you gently to me, my head leaning back on the sofa,
eyes closed. In the warmth of the room, I am conscious of your perfume,
the strawberry shampoo in your hair, the soap from your recent bath, and
other much more intimate scents and aromas. One of my hands is lightly
making circles on the skin of your shoulder, but eventually my brain
registers the fact that occasionally you make a small moan, and the tiniest
of shivers runs through your body.
I lift my head, frowning and look into your face with concern. "Are you
cold, child?" and then remembering the fire smile at the stupidity of the
remark. "Are you getting too hot?"
You raise one hand to my cheek, stroking gently, whispering, "Love, I'm
getting hot, but not because of the fire." And smile shyly at me.
Through the music-induced fog that is my brain, I realise what you are
saying and shake my head, despairing of myself. I smile down at you,
lowering my head to press my lips against yours. "We can't have that, can
we?", and am suddenly overcome with a husky desire for you, my beautiful
love. I want so much, to just crush you against me, ravish your mouth,
your breasts, every inch of your glorious body, but I will not. I will not
break the mood, it will be soft, quiet and very, very long, as long as we
can both make it.
My arms tighten around you, pulling you against me, as I deepen our kiss.
Your arms slide around me and I feel you tighten your hold on me. Bliss.
Absolute bliss, to feel you wanting me this way.
Our lips take on a life of their own as they search and slide, then part to
allow tongues to delve and probe. My heart surges at the feelings, wanting
this moment never to end. Briefly I raise my head and draw my lips from
yours, the tiniest of gaps, but even that gap brings a moan of frustration
from you, as you look into my eyes to see what is wrong. I move my arm
from your back and shoulders and bring it round to softly brush your hair
from your face, snaking my fingers into your locks, returning your
questioning gaze. "Keep your arms around me love, no matter what I do,
just hold on to me, let me know how you feel, with your hands and your
mouth."
With relief you smile, happier now that you know nothing is wrong, and that
I am planning to please you. "Anything", you whisper back, and with one
hand draw my head down to you to continue our exploration of each other's
mouths. Gradually our kisses deepen, mouths open wider and wider, lips
becoming moister, tongues searching, but both seeming to know instinctively
when to slow, when the wanting becomes frenetic; both wanting this time to
last as one of gentle but intense rousing and loving, not frantic coupling.
It is too special to spoil.
I tentatively remove one arm from your back, and am pleased to feel your
hold behind me tighten on my shirt, to stop your body falling away from me.
My hand moves up to your shoulder, caressing the skin with feather touches,
which make you moan into my mouth against my tongue, and I feel you shiver.
I caress along your shoulder and up your neck, underneath your red mane and
back down again - this time gathering the inconsequential strap of your
nightdress and push it off your shoulder and on to your arm. Without
releasing your mouth (as if I would want to, I am in heaven) I reach for
your hand to briefly remove it from me so I can slip off the strap. This
done, you replace your arm around me and my hand moves lightly up and down
the soft flesh, eliciting more shudders.
With the strap released I can now move part of the bodice down and uncover
the first of your breasts. As I do this, and my hand lightly gathers your
breast into it, I feel your arms tighten around me for the first time as
you push the breast into my hand, wanting more contact. Your body begins
to squirm, not much, but enough for me to know I am having an effect. Our
mouths continue to slowly dance with each other, occasionally breaking away
to just drop light brief touches on each other's lips, a time to take deep
breaths, to slow the sensations. Briefly during these breaks, our eyes
meet and my heart races at the passion and arousal I see in yours.
My mind has been wrestling with a slight problem, that of removing your
other strap, which currently is nestled between my arm holding your
shoulders and my breasts. There is no other way. I break away from you
and slightly lift your body from me. I hear your moan of frustration, see
the look of consternation on your face. "It's OK love, I just need to get
to the other strap." The relief on your face almost makes me laugh, but I
will not, it would hurt you. You lift your body slightly and to the
accompaniment of light kisses up and down your neck and shoulder, I slide
the other strap off and lift your arm through. Now. Now we can continue.
You are about to move back to your position, when I feel you hesitate and
look up at me. I know, I just know what you are asking, and I smile and
nod at you, steeling myself for what is to come. Happily you sit yourself
up, a vision with one succulent breast peeping above the bodice of your
nightdress, the other fighting for escape. Soon. You reach for the
buttons of my shirt, slowly releasing them and leaning to place soft kisses
on my skin as the shirt is opened. You finish your task and push the two
sides apart, sliding your hands up to my shoulders to ease it off. I
quickly shrug off the offending garment and smile to hear your moans of
delight at what you see. Your hands are trembling, your breathing becoming
shallow and rapid as you reach for my bra, and moving your hands around
behind me, release the clasp and slowly slide it off my arms and discard it
on the floor.
As my breasts, and more importantly, my nipples are revealed, the desire in
your face is quite open and brings a lump to my throat. You look up at me
briefly and then place your mouth gently over one nipple, drawing it in,
lightly brushing it with your tongue. Oh goddddd, I won't be able to stand
too much of that. I allow you to suckle for a few moments more, and then
gently draw your mouth away. Your eyes fly quickly to my face, "It's OK
love, But I won't last too long if you do that. Later. Later."
With a slight sigh and a nod, your lower yourself back into my arms,
smiling and shivering slightly as you feel my now revealed nipples pressing
gently against your skin, just above your own breasts. My hand reaches for
the bodice of your nightdress and now drags the whole piece down over your
breasts, loving your gasp as the edge of the material is dragged over the
nipple of your second breast.
Your arms begin to tighten around me again as you feel my free hand begin
to play with and caress your breasts, both of them, back and forth, now
caressing the sides and underneath with fingertip touches which make you
shiver and then squeezing the nipple between a finger and thumb, which
makes you moan and gasp through our kiss and lift your body towards me. As
you gasp, your mouth opens even wider allowing me to probe your mouth even
deeper with my tongue, scouring the inside of your mouth, slowly,
continuously, until the point arises when you pull your head away, gasping
from the continual onslaught on your senses.
"Lover, please, please......... I can't take much more. Please."
Delighted with your restraint so far, I pull your mouth back to me,
pretending to ignore you, but that was the signal I needed.
Now my hand grants your breasts a reprieve as I move it to glide down over
your hip, your thigh, as far down your leg as I can reach. Back and forth,
using my hand to caress the material over your soft skin, making you tingle
and tremble even more. Your breathing is quite rapid, turning into those
delightful gasps each time I caress the back of your knee. Reaching out as
far as I can, I gather the material into my hand, bunching it up and
sliding it slowly up your leg towards your waist. As more and more of your
body is revealed, my breathing becomes more laboured. Calm. I must stay
calm. This is not the time to get carried away, this is not about me, this
time is about you. Your pleasure.
Finally, the skirt of the nightdress is now gathered at your waist, along
with the bodice. I allow myself a brief break from your lips, your
wonderful mouth, and turn my head to look at you. Soft sensuous hips,
gently rising belly, flaming red bush just begging to be touched, to curl
around my fingers, and then those long, long, sexy legs. A deep sigh
escapes my lips at the beauty displayed before me. Turning my head back to
you, you are watching me, panting slightly, but still hanging on to me,
your fingers clutching at my skin. Your eyes are clouded with desire, the
lids soft and drooping. As I reach out my hand, sliding it down over your
belly, over your hips, up and down your thigh, I lower my head, not to your
mouth to a nipple, sucking it softly into my mouth as if I was drawing on a
straw.
Your back arches, pushing the breast into me and a long moan escapes from
your now gaping mouth. Your head lolls back on my arm, and your hands
resume their desperate clutching at me. As my mouth continues to gently,
oh so gently ravage your breasts, moving back and forth between them, my
hand now dips through your curls into your dripping centre, and as I slide
one finger in to you, another moan is forced from you lips and I feel your
legs tremble.
Wanting more, I remove my finger and lift your leg at the knee, opening you
up to me. Your thigh is trembling almost uncontrollably, but you manage to
keep it there. My finger returns to you, accompanied by another, and then
another, as I begin a slow, rhythmic pumping in and out. By now, you are
so wet, so open, I add the fourth finger and this time your moan becomes a
wail. Your whole body is trembling, you are near, so very near. Your arms
are pulling me closer to you, keeping your breast in my mouth - a state of
affairs I am quite happy to maintain. My hand continues to glide in and
out, and although I want so much to speed it up, I make myself keep this
rhythm. Your body and your senses are dictating the speed of your climax
and would appear to be prolonging the exquisite build up.
Between gasps you manage to utter, "Pleeeeeeeeeassssssseeeeeee", a long
heartfelt desperate moan for release. Although I would be happy to sit
here and fuck you for the rest of my life, I move my thumb to your hard,
throbbing clit, at the same time sucking harder on your nipple. At the
first touch your hips lift towards me, and a scream, a real scream is torn
from your mouth. I touch once, twice more, gentle flicks, and you explode
against me. As you lift your hips to me, and push your breasts against my
mouth, I quickly withdraw my fingers, curl in my thumb and with a gentle
push, my whole hand slides easily into your dripping, yearning, hungry
centre. I do nothing more, as you push yourself back and forth against me,
each thrust against my deeply embedded hand forcing a strangled cry from
your lips. You surge against me, again and again and again, in fact, so
long its as if you are never going to stop.
I continue to suck and tease your rock hard nipples, but leave my hand
simply resting inside you, feeling the trembling and movements of your
inner walls against my skin, as they finally slow and your hips drop back
to my lap, your whole body slumping against me, my one arm holding you -
exhausted, throbbing, panting. Gently, slowly removing my hand and lifting
my hand from your breasts, I gather you softly to me, gently pulling the
skirt of your nightdress back over your hips and legs.
After a lengthening time, I frown in slight concern, and softly whisper,
"My love...?". Your eyelids flutter but do not open, your panting is
slowing slightly, but your chest is still rising and falling deeply. You
lick your lips, gasping for breath and manage to utter, "I'm OK, just let
me come back down."
In relief I re-arrange your position so that your head is now lying in the
crook of one arm, the other holding you against me, and as your breathing
slowly returns to near normal, you turn more on your side, into me and curl
your legs up. I am content to hold you this way until you have recovered.
The music is still playing, the fire is still warm and glowing, but I feely
you shiver. Although I know you are not cold, I reach for the soft blanket
kept on the back of the sofa and open it, laying it over you, cocooning you
in it and my arms.
I close my eyes happily, but a short while later become aware of movement
and jerk in surprise as I feel your hand on my breast. Then your mouth on
the other as the nipple is gently sucked into your mouth and held there. I
look down at you questioningly and those mischievous green eyes sparkle up
at me, gazing at me in all innocence. "You did say later, love. This is
later," and lowering your eyes, continue to suckle on my breast, curling
yourself contentedly into my arms.
The end ............... or do I mean the beginning??
(The Sonnet: "Renouncement' by Alice Meynell circa 1893)